Front Lines or Bust!
by Kellson
Summary: A Rebel soldier's tale, starting with the Battle of Hoth and beyond. Do not read the first few chapters if you hate tauntauns.
1. Before We Begin, a Note From Me

Note: This IS NOT the entire story. This leads up to the story. Thank you, and power to Chewbacca.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, sadly. George Lucas does, and it is Fiction, contrary to what you shall soon read.

Eh hem.

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

A not so long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away (from me, at any rate), you are shown on your primitive entertainment viewing systems known as Television the works of one George Lucas. His works are numerable, and many of them great. Of course, we all know that Star Wars, his two trilogies, are his masterpieces.

However, many people think that Star Wars, as you call it, is fictional. Many people, possibly even YOU, think that Star Wars is but a mere fantasy, a figment of imagination of some guy who made it big.

You are mistaken.

Star Wars, as it is known among billions of people that live on your planet, is real. It takes place in a galaxy far, far away, and then some. When it happens deals with relativity and such, but basically, there are probably hordes of Yuuzhan Vong attacking Coruscant RIGHT NOW. George Lucas has some contacts on HoloNet. He might have added some thingsIf you are to near sighted to think that all this is false, stop reading, go back to the book sections, and go read Harry Potter (a fictional book if I ever saw one).

Now that you know this, I may continue with my tirade that will lead up to the beginning of my Non-Fiction, yes, Non-Fiction retelling of many of the largest battles between the Galactic Empire and the Rebel Alliance, or the New Republic, as it is now known by those who do not hang on to the Remnant. Another thing Lucas has done is to tell all these large and wondrous battles from the hero's perspectives. Don't get me wrong: Han Solo, Leia Organa Skywalker Solo, Luke Skywalker, and Chewbacca, among others, are amazing, have saved countless lives, and are definitely heroes. HOWEVER: they are not the only ones.

I have viewed the original Star Wars trilogy that Lucas made. The Battle of Hoth was filmed brilliantly with many fine special effects (of the time period, of course), as was the Battle of Endor (on the forest moon, not the space battle, though both were fine). Sadly, but necessarily, Lucas has never mentioned the faceless soldier who went down, guns blazing, to stop an enemy force from advancing. He never mentioned the star pilot who covered the Death Star II's entrance from TIE fighters and interceptors. He never mentioned the lone foot soldier who, armed with only a Merr-Sonn rocket launcher and a DL-44 blaster pistol, charged the advancing AT-ST recon force _on a tauntaun_.

These heroes deserve recognition. The esteemed Wookie councilor, Triebakk, has given me permission to give you the documented versions of just one of these lone soldiers. Then, perhaps you will forget Luke and Leia and C-3PO and the _Millenium Falcon_, and instead think of the unnamed men and women who gave their lives, or rather, _give_ their lives right now to defend what they hold dear.

There are many men like that. I name only one.

This is his story.

Tirili the Quarren, Soldier, Percussionist, and New Republic Researcher


	2. Settle in, womp rats

White, grey, and more white was all that anyone could see on the icey planet of Hoth. The constant blizzards made visibility nearly impossible, and all vehicles had trouble getting into the air, much less landing.

Sadly, the best place to learn this is not when you are a fresh recruit touching down at the Rebellion's new headquarters. Jek Lansturn and his Kel Dor friend, Milosh, were learning this lesson the hard way.

"Pull up!"

"I'm pulling! Why don't you help?"

"I'm working weapons! I can't get to navigation! You're on the other side of the ship!"

"Which way is Echo Base?"

"I already told you, Lansturn, I'm on wea-"

"I know, just get the coordinates from the computer. I sent it over. Blast it!" Jek yelled as a particularly nasty wind buffeted their ship around.

Wrestling with the controls, he yanked up hard on the breaks, let the wind blow them a kilometer, then punched full throttle. They shot forward at an angle, heading towards Echo Base. Their ship, a cross between a small cargo freighter that a smuggler would use and a snubfighter, bounced up and down on the drafts of icy wind. The ship's wings spread from the back half of the ship like a mynock's, causing serious drag in the blistering winds.

The radio screeched as a Rebel Alliance communications officer came on. "Unidentified, er, whatever you are…"

"You can classify us as a flying scrap heap," Milosh muttered under his breath."

"You are not cleared for landing. Names, ship name, and business on Hoth."

Jek rolled his eyes while pulled a hard port turn, the wind knocking them into a barrel roll. "I'm Jek, my partner is Milosh, our ship is the _Sword Shadow_, and we are new Rebel recruits."

"Please hold while we check in our roster for you."

"Hurry up, it isn't easy to fly in this!" the young man yelled, sweeping his wavy blonde hair out of his eyes.

A few seconds later, the permission to land came in. Jek punched the thrusters and sent the _Shadow_ screaming into the north hangar of Echo Base. As Milosh powered down the weapons systems, his friend reined in the ship, letting it float down to the ground and rest, bulls-eyed, in the middle of the landing target.

The two cockpits of the oddly shaped ship popped up. Jek jumped out, pulling on a heavy white coat as he did so. Pushing his shoulder length hair back, he keyed in the outer lock of the front cockpit, along with the phrase, "_Get away from my ship, womp rat_" to appear if someone entered the wrong password or attempted to slice it. He saw Milosh's head pop out of the back hatch. Immediately, the Kel Dor wrapped a scarf around his breather apparatus to keep it from freezing, but he had to leave the eye covers as they were. Dressed in a tunic with a red Y across the front and back, he also pulled on a coat.

"Starboard lasers got plugged up with some snow," he said, shrugging on a pack.

Jek sneezed. "We'll clear it later."

A ground crew came running up, along with a Sergeant. Jek and Milosh saluted. The Sergeant returned the salute and looked over the _Sword Shadow_.

"How in the Force's name did you get that bucket of bolts through the snow?" he asked, mustache bouncing as he talked. "Looks like an Old Republic gunboat from the Clone Wars that was configured for space travel."

"We used the best junkyard in the galaxy for our parts, sir." Milosh said. Jek could tell he was grinning under the mask.

"Obviously. Names?"

"Jek Lansturn, sir."

"Milosh, sir."

The Sergeant nodded. "Sergeant Elijah T. Relly of battalion Balooga. You'll be serving under me. Follow me, the techs will take care of your ship."

They followed the Sergeant through the winding ice tunnels, past rooms full of computers, data screens, maps, and radios, among other things. A man with long sideburns and brown hair brushed past them, followed closely by a beautiful woman yelling, "Han!"

Jek did a double take. Han had to be Han Solo, hero of the Battle of Yavin. From what the rumors on Corellia said, he was always around Princess Leia Organa, so that meant the woman…he did a triple take. The two were arguing heatedly now.

They reached the barracks soon after, which contained ten men. Four sitting in the corner were playing sabbacc, another three was laughing and talking, and then three loners were occupying themselves in varying forms. All the rooms occupants but the talking group got up and nodded or saluted. An angry look from Sergeant Relly got the talkers up, though it was obvious that they didn't want to.

"This is Jek Lansturn and Milosh, ladies. They are our new recruits. Welcome them, and the first person to start a fight is given tauntaun duty. We always need more shovelers," he growled.

A man with short blue hair stepped forward from the sabbacc table. "Hello, Jek and Milosh. I'm Kahtan. Call me Kaht. This is Rrlelf, Zilk, and Marrley," he said, pointing to a Wookie and then two humans. He then introduced Belkan, a red and black Zabrak, Halrid, a Ryn, and Rissk, a Twi'lek. He sat down, leaving the three who hadn't originally stood to introduce themselves.

The one in of the other two smirked. "All right, then. I'm Lostruf, and this is Calle and Gonzer."

"Excellent. Glad you meatsacks got things under control," the Sergeant said briskly. "Lights out at 2130. Nighty-night."

He strode briskly out of the room.

An awkward silence filled the room, until Kahtan waved them over to the sabbacc table, where Rrellf, Zilk, and Marrley were sitting. They pulled up some stools as Rissk pumped up his portable music player and jizz blasted through the air.

"You play sabbacc?" Zilk asked. His voice sounded as cool as the temperature, but it wasn't hostile.

Jek nodded. "Milosh doesn't. He loses to much."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever makes you sleep better at night."

Rrellf the Wookie chuffed with laughter, then made some woofs and roars that Jek couldn't understand. A tiny droid floated up on respulsorlifts.

"I am Q-2000. Call me Q-2. Rrellf says that you need some ice for that burn. Quite honestly, I think he's right, the hairball."

The droid sounded like it had had a bit too much time out on the streets. Marrley chuckled.

"How straightforward, no?" He shook hands with Jek and Milosh. "Marrley Davis, company demolitions and heavy equipment expert. Welcome to the Stew Brigade."

"Stew Brigade?"

"This," Kahtan said, gesturing around the room, "is the front lines company in which the most aliens and humans who spend a lot of time with aliens go. General Yezzin, the third-in-command here at Echo Base, is a slight bit on the human supremacy side. Coincidentally, he also volunteered us for the front lines."

"Son of a gundark," Q-2 commented from his hovering spot above Rrellf's brawny shoulder.

"I see. Any particular reason why?" Milosh asked.

"Mainly because his great-grand uncle twice removed was killed by a Zabrak Sith Lord," Marrley rolled his eyes. "I just happen to be one-third Chiss. Just one-third. Does he care? No." He swore as Kahtan laid down a pure sabbacc and grabbed the chips.

Jek glanced over at Belkan, the red-skinned Zabrak. Tattooes covered his entire face and chest. He was tinkering with some sort of cylinder, applying bits and pieces of scrap metal to it. "Bet that guy over there is loved by the top brass."

Zilk snorted. "You have no idea. Gets him the worst jobs, sends him on impossible missions…it's insane. Belkan is one tough nut, though. He's quick as a velker and as strong as a krayt dragon. Does everything without complaint. Yezzin never gets to him. On the outside, anyway.

"Halrid and Rissk are both on his list, too. He doesn't treat them as bad as Belkan, but still bad. The only reason he doesn't pull anything on Rrellf is because he's stronger and would tear his arms off if he annoyed him."

Rrellf made some more bearlike noises. Q-2 translated, "Rrellf says that the main reason that Yezzin doesn't bother him is because of Chewbacca. A relative, right? Ah, right."

"In any event," Kahtan said, sweeping his long, sky blue bangs out of his eyes, "you are going to see a lot of front line action with us. I'm the squad leader, under Sarge, obviously. Zilk is our sniper," here Zilk brought a long barreled Denloss Disruptor Rifle out from under the table and patted it, "and Halrid and Rissk take care of special equipment and vehicles, in case we need to make a fast exit, even off planet. Belkan is the scout. Everyone else just is just plain assault right now."

Milosh adjusted the scarf that he wore tight around his breather. "What about those three over there, Kahtan?" he asked, jerking his head towards the trio that had been slightly less than welcoming upon their arrival.

Kahtan grinned. "Call me Kaht." His smile faded as he glanced over at Lostruf and his two cronies. "Stay clear of them. They pick fights with anyone that even looks like they are weaker, smaller, or have something they want."

Zilk tossed down an Idiot's Array. "My round, I think. Actually, they pick fights with generally anyone unless they are higher ranking or stronger."

"So that was why Sarge made the special point of saying that if you fight you'll be in it deep, right?" Jek asked, taking a swig of lomen ale.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"He brown-noses Yezzin," Q-2 piped up, making the equivalent of spitting for a droid.

"And his two stooges are totally under his command," Kaht said. "If he says something that is contrary to what I or Sarge say, they'll listen to him and ignore us. Speak of the devil…"

At that moment, Lostruf, Calle, and Gonzer swaggered up. Jek took in the E-11 Blaster Rifles that hung from their hips, but couldn't see any other weapons.

"Hello, rookie," Lostruf drawled. "So glad you could join our enterprising, er, _company_." Calle and Gonzer sniggered, flanking him.

"Me, too." Jek replied evenly.

Lostruf smiled. "Tell you what. Come with us, leave these chumps, and we can talk over a few beers. My treat."

Milosh started to rise, but Jek threw him a warning look and smiled. "I'll tell _you_ what, Lostruf. Why don't you just go back to your bunk and think about this: as long as we are an enterprising, er, _company_," he said sardonically, "no one is a chump in my eyes. At least, not yet."

Calle spat and cracked his knuckles. "We'll give yer one more chance. Come with us and have a drink. We're giving you a special, one time offer that you can't refuse."

Milosh cocked his head to one side. "We'll give you one more chance, too. One more chance to shove off. We're having a game here, and you don't need to come interrupt it."

Lostruf smile grew dangerous and cold. "Come with us. Now."

"Beat it, monkey lizard."

Lostruf cocked his arm back and punched.


End file.
